


The Magic of Las Vegas

by blueboxesandtrafficcones



Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Rival Authors, Drunkenness, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, Nudity, Second Chances, Snow Storm, drunken wedding, snow delay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27986511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueboxesandtrafficcones/pseuds/blueboxesandtrafficcones
Summary: A snowstorm in the US Midwest delays eastbound flights just before Christmas, leaving rival children’s novelists stranded in Las Vegas for the night.  A single, shared drink leads to far more than the intended one-night stand.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037040
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34
Collections: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020





	The Magic of Las Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> Day 9 of 2020′s 31 Days of Ficmas
> 
> Prompt: Snowflake

Standing in the ladies restroom at McCarran International Airport, Rose blinked rapidly as she waited for the eyedrops to take effect. She’d had a full day in Las Vegas, and not the kind that made for good telly. The last stop on her book tour, she’d soon be on her way towards home and Christmas - provided her flight could stop getting delayed. The tree was up, presents wrapped neatly beneath it, and if the loved one waiting anxiously by the door was her mother rather than a boyfriend… so be it. If nothing else, Jackie made the eggnog _strong_.

Gathering her things she returned to the gate, hopes falling - it was even emptier than it had been five minutes before, and in fact, only one potential passenger remained, arguing with one of the attendants at the counter. _I must have missed an announcement. Shit_. Hurrying up to the check-in desk herself, she gave the unoccupied woman her best, kindest smile. “Hi, sorry, is there any update?”

“Cancelled.” The woman, _Madison_ according to her nametag, didn’t look up, typing away at her computer. “The storm in the Midwest is just getting worse, so they’ve decided to try again tomorrow.”

She tried not to groan. _Fucking snow._ All she wanted was to sleep in her own bed. “Oh _kay_ … Can I get a seat on that flight? Or the next one to London, really. I’m not picky.”

“Boarding pass.”

Rose handed it over, trying not to be irritated; the woman was just trying to do her job, and while her customer service could use some work, it _was_ after one in the morning. Everyone was exhausted.

“Oh!” Madison let out, scanning Rose’s boarding pass. “I’m sorry Miss Tyler, let me find you the next available flight.” Attitude doing a one-eighty, she gave Rose a smile. “My niece is a _huge_ fan of your books. I’m actually the one who introduced her to them.”

Rose merely gave a polite smile in reply; while such a sentiment usually warmed her heart, she’d heard some variation of it from nearly everyone she’d met over her fifteen-day book tour throughout the States. Now, though, she just wanted to go home. _I should be halfway to New York by now._

“All set, same seat, leaves at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon with a layover in LA.”

“LA?” Her brow furrowed, trying to picture a map of the country. “Isn’t that the wrong direction?”

Madison nodded, already printing off the new boarding pass. “Yeah, but it’s that with a one-hour layover or Miami, with an eight-hour layover and a plane change. It’ll be fine, and actually does save you time.”

It only took another minute to finalize the transaction, and soon enough Rose was headed for the airport exit, lugging her carry-on with her and so, _so_ glad she’d taken her mother’s advice to keep a set of clothes with her and not check it all. She hadn’t liked the idea of keeping the small rolling suitcase with her when she checked in, wanting to be less bogged down, but now, she was glad to have resisted the urge. _Thanks, Mum._

Footsteps behind her caught her attention, and a moment later, the man who’d been talking to the agent next to her pulled astride. “Terribly unlucky, aren’t we?” he lamented in a slightly posher version of her own accent. “Best case is home for Christmas Eve.”

“The storm should be over tomorrow, so it’ll be fine,” she replied politely, taking him in out of the corner of her eye. Roughly her age, he nonetheless had the distinct look of a sixty-something maths professor, complete with tweed jacket and elbow patches. But his eyes were kind, and he was attractive in that tall, lanky sort of way, with floppy brown hair and a bowtie.

“Hope so. I promised my niece I’d be there.” He seemed to deflate slightly, before rallying. “Listen, this may be terribly forward of me, but- would you like to get a drink? I realize it’s ‘Las Vegas’, but the idea of drinking alone at Christmas just seems… sad.”

They reached the escalator then, and Rose took the opportunity of the ride down to consider the idea. And the likely outcome. He was reasonably handsome, if in a dorky way, and certainly seemed kind enough. She could use the release of an anonymous shag – if nothing else, it would probably make for a good story once home.

“Sure. Why not?”

* * *

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

The bleating of the alarm startled Rose awake, her head feeling as though it had been split open, her mouth dry and fuzzy. A lucky swat silenced the alarm, none too soon. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned, sinking back into the mattress and squeezing her eyes shut against the brightness. “Ow.”

A pitiful sound of agreement came from her right, reminding her of how she’d gotten into such a sorry state. As she’d predicted, one drink had turned to two, then three, then… _Damn. I actually take the chance on a one-night stand, and don’t remember the actual sex? Just my luck._

“Why is it making that noise,” her bedpartner mumbled, sheets rustling as he shuffled around; a moment later, the heavy weight of his head settled on the dip in her bare back. “Wanna sleep.”

“Flight home. Miss it, and won’t be home ‘til Christmas.” She took another chance at opening her eyes, managing to keep them that way this time despite having to squint. “Better get ready.”

He grunted in reply, instead pressing kisses to her lower back. “I can think of _much_ more enjoyable things we could be doing.”

Rose merely swatted him away, rolling out of bed and managing to land on her feet, if somewhat shaky. _I hope I remember his name soon. This might get awkward._ “Lovely as that sounds, ‘m not missing Christmas for it.” She stretched her arms overhead, pleased at the lingering ache in certain muscles as her body started to wake up. She might not remember their escapades, but it appeared she’d more than enjoyed them. “Shower.”

He didn’t try to join her, which she was equally happy and disappointed with; she needed some time to let the warm water bring her back to vaguely-human levels of processing ability, but a quickie sounded good too.

This sent her mind down a warm and steamy path, and by the time she’d toweled off and donned a dressing gown, she was very much interested in a morning shag, strolling out to the bedroom to tell John- his name had come to her in the shower, thankfully- about her change of opinion, only to find him standing naked at the desk, hands on his hips.

Taking a moment to let her eyes linger on his generous _assets_ , she didn’t immediately recognize his tense posture. “Something wrong?”

He jumped, turning to face her, eyes going wide and one hand scrambling to cover his package. “NO!” His gaze darted down to the desktop, expression growing a bit more fearful. “Well…”

“What?” Concerned now, Rose stepped up to his side, distracted at first by how good he smelled. _How’s that possible, after a night of sex and drinking and hours spent at the airport?_ Then she looked down, and her heart stopped. “Please tell me that marriage license doesn’t belong to us.”

“Uh… I dunno about you, but, yeah… that’s me.”

Rose read it over again, unable to comprehend what her eyes were telling her. _Certificate of Marriage… 22 nd of December… Rose Marion Tyler… John Matthew Smith…_ “I don’t believe it,” she said faintly, looking up at him. “This isn’t- I don’t _do_ this sort of thing.”

“Neither do I!” John protested. “Erm, is that- are you- _the_ Rose Tyler, of the Bad Wolf books?”

Hesitantly, she nodded.

“Ah.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t know. It’s just- well- I’m…” He took a deep breath, anxiety clawing at Rose’s stomach as she waited. “I’m J.M. Smith. I write the ‘ _The Doctor_ ’ series.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck me.” Rose closed her eyes, groaning. _Of all the people in the world, I hook up with my closest competitor._ They’d spent the last three years dueling on the bestseller’s lists, fighting for first in children’s fiction. It was _infuriating_ , and now here they were, post-coital, and _married_. _This cannot be real._ “How?” Then, realizing what she said, her eyes snapped open. “ _Don’t answer that._ ”

He nodded. “What… do you want to do?”

“You’re on the same flight I am, right?”

Another nod.

“Let’s just… get ready and go back to the airport. I can’t even begin to think about dealing with this yet.”

* * *

Upon arrival at the airport Rose was able to slip away from him, pulling a beanie on and parking herself at the next gate over; close enough to hear the announcements, but hopefully harder to spot. When he rolled up to the gate several minutes after her, obviously looking around, she just sank lower in her chair; thankfully he seemed to overlook her, choosing a seat that put his back to her, and she relaxed marginally.

Pulling out her mobile she connected to the airport wifi, a quick search confirming that marriages in Las Vegas _were_ legal, and worse, were recognized by the British government. _Shit._ An annulment appeared to be reasonably possible, thankfully not requiring Nevada residency.

_Right. So. Once we get home, file for annulment, and if we’re lucky, no one ever needs to know. Including Mum._

* * *

Still stowing her carryon bag under the seat in front of her, Rose paid no attention to the person who plopped into the seat beside her, resettling herself before turning to look at who it was – and sighing heavily.

“I’m starting to think you’re stalking me.”

John arched a paper-thin eyebrow in response. “I’m starting to think you’re avoiding me.”

“Oh, gee, what gave you that idea?” Huffing, she turned away from him, lifting the window shade to peer out the window. There wasn’t much to see other than the plane at the next gate and blue skies, but she’d spend every second of the flight staring out if it meant avoiding her seatmate. _Husband_.

Thankfully, he left her alone until take-off, but the reprieve was short-lived. As she pulled out her laptop to keep working on the next draft of her story, John made a noise beside her.

“Don’t you think we should talk?”

“No.” With more force than necessary, she pecked out her password one-handed, using the other to hide the keys. “What’s to talk about? We go home, we file for annulment, and with any luck, by New Year’s this will be a distant memory, and someday, perhaps even a funny story. But today- today, this is nothing.”

Opening her manuscript, she glanced over to find him staring at her, and angled her body- and the screen- away from him. “Now you’re being creepy.”

“But aren’t you curious?”

“About _what_?”

“What happened? And why?”

Rose looked at him blankly. “We got drunk. In Las Vegas. And apparently have watched too many movies with that very premise. End of story.”

“I don’t believe that,” John shook his head, fringe falling across his brow. “What if there’s _more_? What if it was fate bringing us together?”

“God, do you _hear_ yourself? It was a terrible coincidence. We’re competitors. End of story.” She glared at the screen. “It _was_ nothing, it _meant_ nothing, and it will _be_ nothing once we’re home and able to call a lawyer. Now piss off, I have a deadline due.” Shoving earbuds into her ears and cranking some music, she did what she could to drown him – and herself- out.

_Focus on work. That’s all that matters right now._

* * *

The flight to LA was short, and given that she didn’t need to change planes, she didn’t have to move, though she was given the option to deplane. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed John leave, which relaxed her somewhat; by the time passengers started boarding she’d put the earbuds away and was sitting back with her eyes closed.

A small voice chattering away caught her attention, particularly at the words _“and that’s why I like the Bad Wolf books more! Sorry.”_ Opening one eye to see, she found to her amusement the child, a girl around eleven, was talking to John, settling herself across the aisle from him as he reclaimed his seat.

Her eyes snapped shut, and she kept her breathing deep and even, curious as to his response.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Rose squinted, and was positioned in such a way she could see the girl nod.

“I like the Bad Wolf books too.”

“You do?” For being a pre-teen, the girl had skepticism down pat, and Rose had to hold in giggles.

“Oh, very much so,” John said seriously. “There are lots of books out there like mine for boys- though I try to write so anyone would enjoy- but the Bad Wolf books are special. I think it’s so cool to see a character like that – when I was your age, pretty much all the books of the genre were about boys. But the Bad Wolf books… anyone can connect with Thorn, and see themselves in her- she’s so _real_. She’s not perfect, and she doesn’t always get it right, but who does? In Book 3- did you read Book 3? Good, I don’t want to spoil it- but at the end… I had almost the same thing happen to me, only it was _both_ of my parents, and Thorn reacted _exactly_ as I did. And above all – never apologize for liking something more than something else. Your opinion is exactly that – so as long as you’re not trying to hurt someone, then don’t be ashamed of what you like. Okay?”

The girl nodded, staring at John in fascination. “You really like the books then, huh?”

“I really do.”

“What’s your favorite part?”

John inhaled through his teeth. “Ooh, that’s a difficult one. I think- the one scene I keep coming back to is when Thorn realizes she’s grown apart from her childhood friends. It’s really sad, yeah? But that’s life- nearly everyone experiences that at some point, everyone drifts away from people they loved. I’ve never read of another series or character that makes that moment so _visceral_. But what about you? What’s your favorite part?”

Turning over so her back was to them, Rose half-listened to the conversation as her mind raced. The scene he’d referenced was fairly small, and by its nature, would only be known by someone who had read the book.

_Does John Smith read my books?_

* * *

Once they were underway and the conversation between her seatmate and the girl had long since stopped, Rose started moving around as if just waking up, complete with yawning and stretching.

“Hi.”

“Oh!” His yelp drew her gaze; he’d been reading, the book snapping shut and quickly tucked out of view, but not before she recognized her own artwork for her most recent release; in fact, the very book she’d been crossing the country to promote. “Hello.”

“Hi,” she repeated, sitting up and looking at him curiously. “Were you reading my book?”

His cheeks flushed, and after a moment, he returned the book to the tray table; based on the bookmark, he’d started it before they’d met, as he hadn’t done much (or any) reading since. “Erm, yeah.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “You’re a fantastic writer.”

“Thank you.” She’d had time to think, about what he’d said about her books, how willing he’d been to discuss them- and not his own- with the young girl who appeared to be flying solo. It had softened her approach towards him- somewhat. “I think there’s a chance we got off on the wrong foot.”

“I agree.”

When he just stared at her, she knew she’d have to make the first move. _I was kind of a bitch to him, wasn’t I?_ “Hi, I’m Rose.”

“John.”

They shook hands, Rose’s skin tingling where they touched.

“So, tell me about yourself.”

He arched a skeptical eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t care, that we’ll just pretend none of this happened. Harder to do knowing things about the other.”

Rose bit her lip, eyes darting down to her lap. “Like Thorn, my dad died, only when I was a baby. Mum always said to hold on to precious moments. And… I don’t trust easy, so clearly, something about you made me give you the benefit of the doubt.” Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze again. “You’ve got until we land in London to convince me to- to extend that faith. If you want to. We’ll see from there. What do you say?”

Green eyes searched hers, and she kept her expression soft, nervous despite her words. They would both be _interviewing_ the other for position of _spouse_ , and suddenly, it was one she wanted to pass with flying colors.

“All right,” he agreed slowly. “Let’s see what happens.”

* * *

The next book in each series was a cross-over, where secret agent Thorn, codenamed Bad Wolf, is rescued by an unlikely hero, _The Doctor_ , and his strange-looking timeship, and it is only through a combination of their unique skillsets they’re able to save the day. With cover-art by Rose Tyler and a foreword from John Smith, the book was an overachieving best-seller, outdoing the previous books in each series and earning an armful of awards.

The picture on the back featured the authors with their arms around each other, he in a suit, and she in a white dress.

Both bios, at the end of the book, ended with the same phrase.

_And they lived happily ever after._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
